


Something Burning

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Lucha Underground, Professional Wrestling
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Season/Series 03, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 16:22:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13298655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: There is always a need to fight. Melissa faces danger and is glad for Fénix, Rey and the memories of her mother. Some things mean more than even she knows.





	Something Burning

**Author's Note:**

> Set during season 3.

 

 

 

The smell of burning was incredibly strong – it was like Chile de árbol, mixed with candles lit for the saints. Melissa's brow twitched as she stirred through disjointed dreams. Her aunt weeping, lighting one more wick as she prayed. Melissa's mom toasting chillis, humming a song with that secret smile on her face, like she knew something no one else did. Melissa never found out what that was.

 

 

Seeing her mom happy, wreathed in pungent smoke and running the kitchen without any worries in her smile, those were perfect memories.

 

 

Melissa woke with a start though, eyes casting across her surroundings, limbs trying to make sense of where she was, heart racing. The Temple,the Temple, _gracias a Dios_. But Melissa didn't remember falling asleep in the first place, and here she was, in the dark, half in her childhood. There were strong capable hands on her shoulders though, reassuring, not pinning her in place. The hands were familiar, as familiar now as the fragrances. Melissa smiled to match her mom, flooded with relief and affection. Fénix smiled down at her, his fingers caressing from her shoulder to her chin. His touch was light, carrying its own memories.

 

 

 

“I'm sorry, _hermanita_.”

 

 

That wasn't Fénix. Rey Mysterio crouched beside her but he didn't touch her. His eyes were full of true compassion and though his mask hid much, Melissa could see the weight that colored every part of him. Here was a legend, beloved across Mexico and America, across the world, and he was giving her apologies. She'd walked beside phantoms, monsters, images from stories and songs older than Rey, but she felt awe at his presence. She dipped her head in a reverent greeting, her heartbeat quieter now, her expression soft and overwhelmed. What had happened?

 

 

Then Melissa's skin crawled and she shifted suddenly closer to Fénix. She felt as though the chillis was in her throat now.

 

 

She remembered; she hadn't been sleeping.

 

 

“I'm sorry we weren't here sooner.”

 

 

That was Rey again, infinite compassion. And there was Dragon Azteca Jr, offering his cape with a tilt of his head. Melissa had learned how to recognize luchadors' speech when they weren't talking. Her job was communication and sometimes that didn't mean using a microphone.

 

 

She nodded and Azteca arranged a long drape of lush green feathers around her shoulders. They were incredibly soft and smelled like the air beyond the Temple, mixed with the faintest hint of smoke. Melissa could still feel the warmth of Fénix through the feathers though. He was holding her like he wanted to be closer. Her hair tangled against his tattoos.

 

 

This was safety.

 

 

“Where is he?” Melissa managed.

 

 

Her voice sounded too loud around the Temple walls but none of the men winced. They did all tense though and Azteca cursed so vehemently that Rey shook his head; a disappointed mentor. For the first time since coming back to consciousness, Melissa felt truly tense.

 

 

“He escaped, _hermanita._ Mariposa knows how to hide him too.”

 

 

So after Marty had taken Melissa, caged her and tried to take whatever it was his sick mind wanted from her, he'd gotten away. Melissa did some cursing of her own. Fénix squeezed her hand, then interlaced their fingers. She was surrounded but she felt safe. Melissa breathed deeply; she was glad they'd brought her back to the Temple. She had been hurt here, her friends had been too, but here she could read more than the outside world gave her. iI was like she never stood alone.

 

 

“He had a room, full of pictures of me,” she said quietly, the words feeling sick and jagged.

 

 

He'd always stood too close in the ring. Melissa shivered and felt Fénix draw patterns across the feathers, meant for her skin.

 

 

“So now we plan too,” said Rey, soft but resolute.

 

 

But Melissa knew Dario and Catrina and Marty and so many more that lived in the darkness – her safety couldn't be guaranteed. Rey leaned a little closer; his eyes like dark brilliant stars.

 

 

“The tribes are out there. Aerostar still has messages to carry. There are many things we can do; to make this place sacred again.”

 

 

“Black Lotus,” murmured Azteca, like a curse.

 

 

Rey nodded. “She will return.”

 

 

It sounded like an old argument. Fénix laughed and his breath was warm when he spoke quietly in Melissa's ear about Azteca's true desire for Black Lotus' return. Her triad would help too. Melissa thought about Sexy Star, how swiftly she would help. The Mack would partner her. And there was Son of Havoc, maybe Angelico and Ivelisse. Drago would have helped once but he had chosen a very different path; it still hurt Aerostar and Fénix. Melissa knew who would answer their tribes' call, Rey's call. She knew the Temple.

 

 

Rey watched them with a slight smile as Melissa refocused on his previous words.

 

 

“I'm not part of the tribes,” she stated softly, simply.

 

 

She didn't say she hadn't lived as long as Fénix or Aerostar, that she hadn't been brought up for a sacred purpose like Azteca or gathered as much knowledge and certainty of her purpose as Rey. She had lived an ordinary life before Dario had hired her for her face.

 

 

Rey's smile grew and it was like sunlight. “But you were born to their story.”

 

 

He hummed the song Melissa's mother had often enjoyed as she'd cooked and worn that secret smile. Melissa stilled, her heartbeat rapid again, her eyes wide. Fénix pressed their joined hands to his chest. Melissa could trace every line of his tattoos without looking. They were as welcome as the feathers wrapped around her shoulders. They were welcome. When Melissa licked her dry lips, they tasted of Chile de árbol.

 

 

_-the end_

 


End file.
